


pedal to the medal

by Michaelssushi



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Baby Driver AU, Denny's, M/M, Michael is a Little Shit, Sort Of, i had to change some stuff but it's pretty similar to baby driver, michael eats too many pancakes, smut later?? maybe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2018-12-24 13:11:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12013467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Michaelssushi/pseuds/Michaelssushi
Summary: jeremy didn't want trouble, and michael didn't want to cause trouble. of course, they both got exactly what they didn't want.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey!! so i started writing this story on my tumblr @treebrosofficial and i wanted to continue it, i loved the movie baby driver and i thought i should make a fic out of it!!

the chaos happening in the atlanta streets was honestly terrifying. two cars chased each other, screeching and screaming across the roads at breakneck speeds. gunshots rang out from the cracked windows. fires burned in avenues, fueled by other cars and angry mobsters.

  
jeremy, however, just wanted to get through the goddamn traffic.

  
his day had already been shitty; his girlfriend broke up with him and his only friend to rant to was in the bahamas with no service. and now this. a gang fight taking over all of atlanta was the last thing he needed right now.

“come on, go, go,” he grunted while whacking his palm against the steering wheel repeatedly. he watched one of the people from the car chase jump out of a car, roll onto the sidewalk and sling a gun across his back. _pretty badass,_ jeremy thought as he watched the boy examine the terrain.

  
he pulled out his phone and began to scroll through instagram. nothing worth noticing, but he kept browsing until the noise of his car door opening interrupted his thoughts.

  
a tall, tan, boy sat next to him, running a hand through his hair and touching his gun to make sure it was still there. “wh-what the hell?!” jeremy questioned loudly at the boy. he drew his gun out and pointed it at jeremy in response.

“drive.”

“drive? wh-where?!”

“i don’t care, JUST FUCKING DRIVE!” the tan boy shouted and pressed the barrel of the gun to jeremy’s forehead.

“i’m driving, i’m driving! jesus!” jeremy screamed as he veered away from the traffic.

  
he had forgotten to turn off the arctic monkeys playing on his stereo, which he hadn’t noticed until the tan boy spoke again. “arctic monkeys, huh? breakup?”

“ _who_ are you and _why_ are you in my car?” the old clunker slammed to a halt in a diner parking lot. jeremy turned to the boy. “i’ve got plenty of time for explanations, don’t worry.”

  
the tan boy sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “the name’s michael. i’m not telling you my last name, because that could get me in serious trouble and i don’t have time for damn trouble.”

“uh, okay. and what exactly are you doing in my car, putting a gun to my head and telling me to drive?”

“i had to get away from there. i’d die if i stayed. seriously, i would more than likely get shot.” jeremy stared at him skeptically, the light from the denny’s parking lot illuminating his face mysteriously.  
“i drive the gang, if that’s what you’re wondering,” michael said and slid down in the seat.

“the gang? who's the- wait, wait, wait.” jeremy shook his head. “you drive cars ‘professionally’.”

“‘professional’ is a broad term.”

“and yet you still threatened to kill me and made me drive.”

“uh huh.”

“jesus christ michael, couldn’t you have stolen a car or some supervillan shit like that?”

“no. i want some pancakes.”

  
jeremy sighed and banged his head on the steering wheel a few times. “fine. let’s go get you some pancakes.” 

* * *

 

“so, why, exactly, was my office building on fire?” jeremy asked through a mouthful of fried egg. the lights in the parking lot hit the tan boy's face perfectly, filtering in through the window and illuminating him from their booth. _he's cute,_  jeremy realized as michael shoved another whole pancake into his mouth. “ew.”

“hey, don't judge my eating habits. and let's just say it was a bank robbing gone wrong.” jeremy's eyes widened, jaw dropping as a few bits of egg fell out.

“a _WHAT_?” he shrieked, drawing a few glares from the almost empty diner. “how did an entire building get set on fire because of that?”

“keep your voice down,” michael responded, eyebrows furrowing. “it's really better if you don't know.” he forced another pancake into his mouth, making jeremy cringe.

“i'm gonna vomit if you do that again.”

“then vomit. see if i care.”

jeremy shook his head, poking at his eggs. he didn't have much of an appetite anymore. “hey, i don't know your name,” michael broke the silence.

“oh. uh, my name is jeremy,” the brunet stuck his hand out.

“jeremy. cute,” michael laughed as he shook his extended hand.

_holy shit. did he just flirt with me?_

“so, uh, you're probably getting tired of me asking favors-”

“you're not spending the night,” jeremy replied flatly.

“i still have a gun, in my pocket, pretty boy.”

_pretty boy. god damn._

jeremy sighed, as if the death threat was a minor inconvenience. “fine. but you better not wreck my house,” he groaned, earning a grin from the boy across from him.

“thanks, jere bear,” he cooed as he shoved his final pancake into his mouth.

“don’t call me that ever again.” 

* * *

 

“okay, so,” jeremy began as he unlocked his tiny apartment. “as you can see, i don't have much of a living space. meaning, you're gonna have to sleep on the couch.” michael nodded, going over to the resident’s record collection.

“you've got some good taste, kid,” the taller boy commented as he flipped through the vinyls. “let's see- pink floyd, led zeppelin, the neighbourhood, carly rae jeps-”

“i’ll show you around,” jeremy cut him off, a blush spreading across his cheeks as he grabbed michael's hand away from his records.

_shit. why did i do that?_

“here's my kitchen,” jeremy gestured to the tiny space, pointing out the stove and the oven. “the bathroom’s over there,” he gestured to his left. “and my bedroom is up here,” he waved his hand to the right. “i'm gonna get you some blankets. stay right here,” he called over his shoulder.

as he ruffled through his tiny linen closet, he wondered how long this asshole was gonna stay. _hopefully not too long._

“i hope these are-” jeremy stopped in the middle of the room, raising an eyebrow at the boy on the couch.

“i made myself some tea, hope you don't mind,” michael raised the porcelain cup at his companion, who stared at him in a mix of awe and annoyance.

“you made- i got you some blankets,” he sighed and nudged the other onto his feet, laying the sheets down as he reclined the couch.

“alright. if you need anything, don't bother me. i'm only letting you stay because you have a gun. goodnight,” jeremy groaned and went off to his room, shutting the lights off as he went.

“night, jere bear,” he heard michael call from the living room, and rolled his eyes (surprisingly) for the first time that night.

_he better leave soon, or i might go crazy._


	2. valentine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jeremy gets an unexpected guest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys for all the comments and kudos! this is probably really bad because i finished writing it at 3 am oops

jeremy woke up to a sweet, delicious smell, trying to remember what in the hell had happened last night. he recalled watching the bank burn, a denny’s, and -

_oh. that explains the smell._

he sat up and stretched, recalling the other current resident’s intense passion for pancakes and chuckling to himself.

“that asshole better let me have some of those,” he mumbled as he slipped a t-shirt on, walking out into the hallway into the kitchen.

“morning,” he greeted drowsily as he rubbed his eyes, not fully seeing the tan boy yet.

“pancakes?” michael asked as jeremy opened his eyes.

and _hot damn._

michael was shirtless. and even worse, he was _sexy._ he had enough abs to be considered attractive, and pretty noticeable pecs that made jeremy blush when he _definitely_ shouldn't have. come to think about it, michael could definitely be a model for calvin klein, or some other overpriced perfume company.

_huh? no, no_ , jeremy shook his head at himself. he couldn't stop his eyes from roaming over the taller boy's back muscles, down to his-

“is that a yes or no?” michael snapped him back into consciousness, causing the smaller boy's face to heat up.

“yeah, i'll take some,” he replied as casually as he could, reaching for his coffee cup. he hadn't noticed it was the pink, blue and purple one, the bisexual flag cup his dad had given him so long ago. he told me to visit sometime. goddamn, i gotta get on that.

“you bi, or did you just think the colors are pretty?” michael smirked, noticing the mug. jeremy rolled his eyes and set it down, attempting to act natural in front of the shirtless boy who was making his stomach flutter uncontrollably.

“i'm bi, my guy,” jeremy responded smoothly, then doubled over with laughter at the rhyme while michael smiled at the boy in front of him.

“shit, i gotta call my boss,” jeremy's eyes widened as he sat back up, recovering from his horrible pun.

“why?” michael asked, flipping a pancake.

“i thought i told you, my office building was on fire last night, and most likely gone, thanks to you,” jeremy muttered as he picked up his phone. “hey, mr. dillinger. should i- no? oh, alright, bye-” michael could hear the person on the other end hang up.

“not going to work, huh?” he asked, earning a glare from his companion.

“good thing i have another job,” jeremy commented as michael shoveled a pancake onto his plate.

“another job?” michael asked. _shit,_ jeremy realized. _i can't tell him about… that_.

“mcdonald's,” the brunet lied, scratching at the back of his neck. “i work, um, night shifts.”

“right,” michael eyed him with suspicion as he shoved a whole pancake into his mouth.

“if you're gonna be here, at least don't do that,” jeremy groaned. how can he eat so many pancakes and look so good? wait, no. shit. he doesn't look good. aaaagh.

“fuck off, heere.”

“how do you know my last name?”

“i looked through your shit. hope you don't mind,” michael said casually as jeremy spit out his coffee.

“wh-why would you do that?” he shrieked, putting his head on the table to hide his already evident blush.

“i got bored. pornhub premium, though? classy.” jeremy was pretty sure he would catch on fire if he got any redder- however, he was saved by a knock at the door.

* * *

 

chloe valentine didn't want to cause any trouble to the kid she was bothering- she almost felt sorry for the poor soul. however, what had to be done had to be done. as she raised her fist to knock on the door in front of her, she silently praised jesus for thinking to put a tracker on her driver’s jacket.

michael had always been reckless, so no doubt after last night he had gone to some club and picked up some boy. it would be over the next day, no hard feelings and no strings attached.

if everything went as she hoped it would, the stranger would be fine and michael would be dead. she could find another driver, one that wouldn't carelessly get the ones she loved the most killed.

she knocked gently on the cold wood, followed by the noise of light footsteps and the door creaking open. “can i help you?” a lanky brunet asked her as he stood in the doorway, taking a sip of coffee. he looked tired- messy hair, pink face, and bags under his eyes, almost cute. what a shame she didn't like boys anymore.

“hi, i'm looking for michael mell?” chloe asked, scuffing her pumps lightly against the floor to feign nervousness. the boy's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. _he either never bothered to learn his name, or he's lying,_ she thought to herself as he rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand.

“i don't think anyone named michael’s been around here. sorry,” the boy responded quickly, swinging the door closed. chloe grabbed it at the last second, however, forcing it back open and startling him with her strength.

“may i come in?” she asked as politely as she could. the brunet’s stare went from confused to angry, something in his eyes betraying his innocent act.

“what is this about?” the boy snapped, persistent on closing the door while chloe was persistent on opening it.

“sir,” she began. she pulled her gun out of her holster, pressing it against his forehead, earning a surprised and horrified yelp from the victim.

“what the hell?” he half shouted, backing inside and leading the woman along.

“listen here,” chloe snarled, her demeanor quickly shifting from polite to deadly. “you stay quiet. you tell me where michael is. no one gets hurt, except for him.”

the boy behind the bullet shook his head, a nervous, crazy laugh escaping his lips. “what the fuck is going on?” he asked, another laugh coming from his mouth. “what do you want from this ‘michael’ kid?”

“you and i both know who i'm looking for. that no good son of a whore killed my _wife_. now, i'll ask you one more time. _where is he?_ ” she pressed the barrel harder into his forehead to steady her shaking hand, tears beginning to run down her face in black ribbons.

“how did he-” he was cut off by the noise of a gun cocking, but it didn't come from the gun on his forehead.

“right here, valentine,” a low voice said behind his back, followed by a loud gunshot and a thump. jeremy felt the cold metal fall away from his forehead as he squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to look at the body or the man who saved his life.

the room filled with a thick silence, before jeremy broke it with his hysterics.

“what the fUCK, DUDE? YOU JUST KILLED SOMEONE! IN MY APARTMENT! PEOPLE PROBABLY HEARD THE GUNSHOTS, OR CALLED THE POLICE, OH GOD-”

“calm down, jere bear. this isn't my first rodeo,” michael stated calmly. “do you have laundry detergent and a cloth?”

a few hours later, michael sat next to a still shaking jeremy on his couch, the old springs creaking beneath his weight. “hey,” he said softly, not wanting to scare the boy again. “are you alright?”

a silence stretched out between the two, growing more uncomfortable as it went. “jeremy,” michael started again, grabbing the pale boy's hands.

he jerked back, looking up at michael. “don't touch me,” he snarled, standing up angrily. “don't fucking get near me, you sick fuck. get out of my house. get out of my life, goddamn it.” jeremy was shaking harder now, wet trails of tears falling down his face.

“jeremy.” michael’s voice was small, but the hurt in it was clear as day. “you can't kick me out. they're gonna be after you too.”

“and _guess whose fucking fault that is?_ ” jeremy growled, stepping towards him. “yours. all yours, michael. all because you couldn't have picked some other car to hijack. someone else's life to fuck up. you…” he burst into tears, the dam finally breaking as he collapsed, much to his dismay into michael's lap.

“fuck off,” he sobbed into michael's legs as he felt fingers run through his hair.

“make me.”

jeremy sat back up, still slightly crying, suddenly aware of two things: he had no idea what to do, and michael was still shirtless. he was suddenly aware of a third thing as well: he had had his head in michael's lap. his face returned to the previous tomato red color it was before whatever the hell just happened… happened.

“you're an asshole,” jeremy fumed, standing up and stomping away to his room, completed with an extra loud door slam. 


	3. jeremy’s job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jeremy’s side job gets a little out of hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m gonna try to start writing longer chapters lmao. also warning for sexual assault in this chapter

jeremy hadn't spoken to michael for the rest of the day - he had gone out at some point, and later smelled smoke coming from the patio. _that son of a bitch better not be smoking._ he groaned to himself, running a hand down his face. he knew michael would have to leave soon, but soon couldn't come soon enough. if he was in his house for one more day, he would take his gun and shoot himself with it.

jeremy's thoughts were interrupted by his phone ringing, a cheerful tune he hadn't changed in two years blaring from his bedside table. “hello?” he asked, not bothering to look at the caller id.

“hey jeremy, it's connor,” a voice said from the other side of the telephone. jeremy chuckled, leaning forward on his bed.

“‘sup, mckinley?” he asked, crossing his legs.

“well, first off, i’m checking to see if you're okay. kevin said he heard bullet noises by your apartment, are you hurt?” connor asked, music thumping gently in the background.

_shit. of course someone heard it, and of course that someone was kevin price. fabulous._

“what? no, i'm fine,” jeremy laughed, praying there was no hint of lying in it. “what was the other thing?”

connor took a deep breath before continuing. “well, uh, jared is sick, and tonight's his night. we were wondering if you could cover?” jeremy could hear the nervousness in his voice, as if he were afraid of jeremy. he frowned, both at the thought of his friend being afraid and of covering tonight.

“i don't know, con,” jeremy replied, forehead creasing with worry. “i have an, uh, unexpected guest. but i think i can do it. what time?”

he heard connor let out a sigh of relief, followed by a laugh. “7:30. jenna wants you to do feel good, inc.” jeremy groaned.

“i do that song all the time,” he grumbled jokingly, secretly relieved he wouldn't be doing out tonight again.

“thanks so much!” the redhead on the other end of the phone squealed.

“oh, and tell rich i hope he gets better,” jeremy added. “bye, con.” he hung up, walking to his closet to find his costume.

look, it wasn't jeremy's fault he could dance. more specifically, it wasn't his fault he could swing himself around a pole in sleazy lingerie, lip syncing to whatever song jenna wanted him to and grinding his hips on rich, wealthy men. it made him a living on top of his job at the bank, after all - those two paychecks helped him get groceries, clothes and some more.

he glanced at the clock _. 7:15. better get going._ he found his piece of skimpy white lingerie, slipping his clothes on and replacing them with the two pieces of silk that could barely be considered a “uniform”. slipping his jeans back on, jeremy headed out the door and shrugged on his coat, zipping it up quickly and grabbing his keys off the kitchen counter.

“heading out?” a smooth voice startled jeremy, causing him to jump. he turned slowly to see michael lounging on his couch, a slushie in hand.

“why in the name of abraham are you still here?” jeremy asked, mood souring as a grin spread across michael's face. _god, i want to slap that stupid look off of him. then maybe kiss it better. wait-_ “i'm getting groceries.”

“i've been inside all day, can i come?” michael asked, taking a long look at jeremy.

“what? no. absolutely not. i don't want to be within a 50 mile radius of you,” jeremy replied almost instantly, stomach churning with pure horror. michael couldn't figure out his little side job. that would be horrible.

“fair enough-” jeremy slammed the door before he could finish his sentence, a scowl settling on his face as the chilly wind bit at his skin. it was mid-september, always a nice, cold time that jeremy enjoyed.

he paced down the block, keeping his head down and hands in his pockets. eventually, he reached his destination - the trashy nightclub he knew all too well, rj’s nights out.

he hustled in, out of the cold and into the sticky heat of the dark club and into brightly lit dressing room.

“jeremy! hey!” a voice called from the back of the crowded space. connor mckinley trotted over, pressing through the men applying mascara and spraying hairspray to get to him. “i’m so glad you could make it! you’re on in, let’s see,” the redhead paused to look at the clock. “ten minutes.”

“shit!” jeremy cried, eyes widening as he hurried to his mirror. he frantically grabbed for his highlighter, brushing it across his cheeks, followed by some lipstick and a bit of mascara.

“5 minutes! go, go!” connor cried, pushing him out of the dressing room to the backstage.

it had been a few weeks since jeremy had danced to feel good, inc., so he quickly went over the words, lips moving silently as his feet went along gracefully with himself. he was actually a pretty decent dancer - and flexible, too. his father had told him he could be in a ballet if he wanted to, at some point.

_it doesn’t matter now, idiot,_ jeremy scolded himself as a voice came on over the speakers.

“gentlemen and curious ladies out here tonight, please give a warm welcome to our opening act!” the crowd burst into cheers, making jeremy feel a swell of pride in his chest. _that feeling never got old_ , he thought to himself as he stepped out from behind the dark curtain, trailing a finger down his thigh as the loud bass began to pulse through the air.

he stood in front of the crowd, raising his hands above himself and tilting his head back as his hips began to rotate, earning a cry from the audience. he shut his eyes, focusing on the happy yelling instead of the disgusting jeers coming from the front row.

he spun, landing back on the plush leather chair chair and spreading his legs generously, sending a wink to a man in the front row. the crowd roared as jeremy got back up, shaking his ass as he moved across the front of the stage, his heels making sharp clicking noises as he moved.

_embarrassing as this is, it sure as hell is fun_ , jeremy thought to himself as a lock of brown hair fell in his eyes. sweat stuck to him uncomfortably as he snapped his thigh highs against his skin, earning a jeer from the crowd.

he grinned, heart racing as his legs opened wide to do a pirouette across the stage, the smooth bass of the song rippling through him.

then came the hand.

jeremy felt a rough hand on his ankle - for a split second, he thought it might have been a careless partygoer, but soon found himself being aggressively pulled down from the stage. he scrambled, but the smooth metal provided no friction as he was dragged down to the floor.

“h-hey!” he cried, his voice barely audible over the cheering as he crawled backwards, but was soon yanked up by his hair and pushed against a hot, sweaty, disgusting body that he definitely didn’t want to be near.

“how about i take you back to my place, eh, pretty boy? see if you can dance just for me?” the man he was shoved against snarled, a hand reaching to grope jeremy’s ass while the brunette continued to be touched by strangers. he screamed, but it was lost in the yelling and the music. the colors began to get brighter and the noise began to get louder as jeremy’s world spun out of control, tipping as he was groped at angrily.

then, he heard the crack.

which was shortly followed by an angry “fuck!”. jeremy turned to see the man who had been touching him on the floor, holding his nose as the other crowders hovered near.

he felt a warm hand on his back, and heard some reassuring words murmured into his ear as he was escorted out of the sweaty, awful club by the stranger and into the chilly september air.

“hey, hey, you’re gonna be alright,” the voice whispered, the only sounds around being his voice and the passing cars whizzing by. jeremy’s eyes filled with tears, and a sob escaped his mouth as he leaned against the stranger. “can you stand?”

he sniffled again, before standing and looking up at the man who had saved his hide.

he wasn’t prepared for the wave of shock that was sent over him in that moment, so strong he almost went back down.

“michael?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this isn’t great because i was sort of in a hurry to publish it, sorry!!


	4. aftermath.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> michael is a night in shining armor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m SORRY THIS TOoK SO LONG DNDNDBSH

“jeremy?”

michael’s words came out fast, jumbled from shock. he briefly thanked heavens for walking in at the right time - when he had entered there was no one on the stage even though the music still pulsed and the lights still flashed, but his eyes caught a glance of a head of brown hair being tossed around like a rag doll in a crowd of angry men. he had heard furious, helpless cries of “get off me” and knew he was gonna have to step in, and fast.

and now, as he stood in front of his acquaintance - they weren’t friends, not yet - he wasn’t quite sure what to say. and he figured now was not a time for a stupid snarky comment.

“hey,” he smiled, keeping his tone soft.

jeremy shuttered in response, running a hand through his hair as another tear slipped down his face. “why are you here?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“hey, it doesn’t matter right now. let’s get you home.”

* * *

 

michael pulled into the apartment garage, the feeling of jeremy’s steering wheel in his hands oddly foreign. the brunette’s car was a 2007 toyota that looked damn near a time capsule. michael was used to ferraris, bugattis- hell, even a rolls royce- anything nice that chloe could buy, he would drive.

_don’t think about chloe right now. don’t think about the woman you killed-_

“are you coming?” jeremy asked quietly, opening his door and stepping out into the chilly air. it occurred to michael the brunette was still in his lingerie, and was most likely freezing. as he stepped out of the car, he slipped his jacket off and slipped it onto the other boy’s pale, exposed shoulders. jeremy smiled weakly, a non-verbal thank you to michael.

“is this new?” he asked, fingers sliding across the warm brown leather.

“yeah. i burned my old one,” michael replied, the image of the thin red and white jacket burning appearing in his mind. jeremy nodded, thankfully not asking why or how he got a new one as they continued up the staircase.

jeremy shakily unlocked his apartment, stumbling in and sitting weakly on his overstuffed sofa. he looked pale and washed out compared to the warm red-orange of the walls, and he let out a tiny sigh as he sank into the cushions. michael, unsure of what to do, sat next to him, cringing slightly at the squeal of springs underneath his weight.

“do you wanna talk about it?” michael asked gently, not wanting to upset him. jeremy shook his head frantically in response, and michael took that as his cue to stay quiet.

a comfortable yet stifling silence settled around the room, and michael felt a head rest softly on his shoulder. he smiled gratefully, thinking, _maybe he’s starting to like me?_  
  
“jesus, michael,” jeremy said, a sigh escaping his lips. “as much as i don’t want to like you, you’re making it kind of hard.”

“huh?” michael laughed nervously, fumbling over himself.

“i mean, you sort of saved my ass back there, so that helps. also, you make some damn good pancakes,” jeremy almost giggled, a soft smile coming across his face.

and damn, if it wasn’t the most beautiful thing michael had ever seen.

_calm down, mell. you’ve barely known him for 24 hours._

“huh. looks like jere-bear is capable of smiling!” michael deadpanned, causing jeremy’s giggles to turn into snorts.

_ouch. that’s cute._

“and laugh, too? what’s next, actually being able to stand me?” michael was laughing too now, his arm around jeremy’s shoulders. jeremy leaned forward from his laughter, the hot, awful feeling from 20 minutes ago evaporating in his chest and being replaced by a warm, bubbly feeling that he had felt with -

_christine._

_shit!_

_OH, SHIT!_

jeremy sat bolt upright, laughter stopping abruptly.

“jeremy? you okay?”

silence.

“do you - do you believe in soul mates?” jeremy asked hurriedly to break the silence, voice cracking with concern.

that was the only time he had felt that feeling. with her. _he had thought they were-_

“soulmates? well, i guess i’ve never thought about it,” michael turned his head up, accidentally exposing that gorgeous jawline to the blushing pale man beside him.

_i’d rather be beneath him, though-_

_jesus christ!_

“you know, like, uh, fuck,” jeremy interrupted his thoughts. “when you’re. uh. talking to someone, and you get that bubbly feeling? like, um, your stomach is all warm and happy and you’d rather die than stop talking to them? yeah?”

michael started at him, and he felt his cheeks heat up as his gaze raked up and down his skinny, lingerie - and - leather - clad body.

“hmmm,” michael hummed, with a look jeremy couldn’t quite place in his eyes that still made his stomach explode into butterflies.

_wow, heere. you’ve barely known this guy for a day and now you think you’re SOULMATES?_

  
“hmm. yeah, i think so,” michael nodded.

_fuck._

a silence stretched across the room, so thin it felt as if it would break any second. jeremy felt the bubbly feeling evaporate, replaced by a dull, unpleasant emptiness.

he sighed, a broken noise.

“you think i’m gross, i know. i think i’m gross.” he picked absentmindedly at the silk on his body.

“what?” michael turned sharply, a look of anger and concern burning in his eyes.

“in case you hadn’t noticed, you picked me up from a _strip club_. in some fucking _lingerie_. those are pretty gross things, michael. i’m a whore,” jeremy sighed in defeat.

“jeremy elizabeth heere, you are not a whore,” michael grabbed his hands, warm against the paler boy’s palms. “you do whatever you want, and it doesn’t make you a whore. and being a whore isn’t a bad thing, anyways! hell, we’re all whores!”

jeremy was laughing again, leaning against michael. “whatever you say,” he giggled.

_that damned feeling was back_.

the laughter died down before jeremy spoke again.

“well, um, goodnight,” he shuffled away. “thanks for, y’know, saving me.”

“anytime, my prince,” michael grinned as he laid across the overstuffed couch. jeremy turned back and gave him an eye roll, his usual self finally appearing as he shut his bedroom door gently behind him with a satisfying click.

michael didn’t sleep, though - all night, he had thought about what jeremy had said.

_do you believe in soulmates?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey my tumblr is @treebrosofficial if you wanna come yell at me

**Author's Note:**

> should i continue this?


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